Album of the month: Whitest Boy Alive Dreams

Is it a dance band playing indie music? Or an indie band playing dance music? I’m not sure, but I like it. Whitest Boy Alive is the latest project of Norway ’s Erlend Øye, instantly recognisable because he looks like the kid from school that everyone used to pick on for having ginger hair, glasses and a stupid coat. Øye first shot to fame sounding a lot like Simon and Garfunkel as part of the introspective folk duo ‘Kings of Convenience’, and later made his name as a DJ and electro artist with a series of collaborations with renowned producers. His latest brainchild sees him surfing the contemporary zeitgeist by making music you can dance to with real instruments. The track ‘Burning’ is guaranteed to have you prancing around the kitchen in your underwear. Beg, borrow or steal a copy.

Not liking Paris Hilton is like saying that you don’t like electricity. She’s part of what it means to be modern: get over it. Not liking Paris Hilton basically means you don’t like pop music, or understand what it means to be a pop star nowadays. What’s more, with her joyously blatant rip off of UB40’s Kingston Town, she provided us with one of the most exuberant hits of the summer (‘Stars are Blind’), so we’ve already got good reason to be grateful to her for making our world that bit more exciting with her carefully acted ‘lobotomised blonde’ stage persona. To be completely honest, even if her debut album sounded like the meanderings of a spoiled rich kid, I’d probably still really like it. But, the good news is, the album is… really, really great. The first time I wrote this review I described it as ‘really, realty acceptable,” but the more I listen to it, the more I like it. I’m not even joking. Kicking off with some Britney Spears-esque RnB, (“Ooh, yeah… that’s hot” are her opening words. Nice) the album gets better, throwing in a few more envelope-stretching pop tracks, such as ‘Not Leaving Without You’, driven by a hand-clappin’, foot-stompin’ country guitar loop. The album ends, rather appropriately, with her amusing karaoke version of Rod Stuart’s ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy?’ Erm, yes, we do Paris . You are. But more importantly, you’re more entertaining than a room full of chimpanzees.

If you’re the kind of person who wouldn’t want to bash their head into a box of nails at the mention of a CD with the title ‘House Nation’, then I suppose you’re going to love the CD that’s been released with precisely this title. That’s the great thing about compilations – they do exactly what they say on the box. I mean, really, what more could you expect other than an entirely insipid collection of electro-house? I’m sure it’ll look great in your CD collection alongside you copies of “Mega House Mix”, “Dance Hits 2004”, and “Hit Dance House Mega Party.”

There’s a line in the sand which rappers cross when they stop being musicians and start being brands. Snoop Dogg crossed it when he started releasing porn videos. Pharrell Williams crossed it when he started designing trainers. 50 Cent (who has a clothing line, his own brand of energy drink and is supposed to be releasing a line of sex toys and condoms) never crossed it because he’s never been anything more than a brand – the fact that he raps has always been a mere addendum to his comically exaggerated Gangsta image. What comes across most strongly in Missy Elliot’s most recent release, a greatest hits LP entitled ‘Respect M.E’, is just how much across the line she’s gone. The very name of the LP is the same as Missy’s exclusive line of clothing with Adidas (Missy + Adidas = respect, her website tells us). Missy, in case you hadn’t realised, is most definitely a brand. It’s not a good thing, often getting in the way of the music. However, the second thing that this compilation reminds you is just how incredibly good Missy Elliot has always been. Some of these tracks were released as far back as 1997, and still sound utterly fantastic, from the exuberant soul of ‘I Can’t Stand the Rain’, to the jaw-dropping minimalism of ‘Work It’. She’s also very, very funny, even managing to make fun of premature ejaculation in the track ‘One Minute Man’. Literally every track is a winner.

Studio One aren’t sure if they want to be taken seriously as a dance act or a pop group on their LP ‘Soarele si Dimineata’. They’ve admittedly got a good ear for a melody, and their electro-production gives them the edge over other stuff on the market, but tracks like ‘Doare’ really drag them back to the level of a pure euro-pop act.

I must be the only person in Romania never to have listened to DJ Bobo in my life before now. The Swiss producer (‘who does not smoke or drink alcohol’ it says on his website, which of course leaves the door open for an uncontrollable addiction to hard drugs. I think we should be told the truth) was clearly and inexplicably huge in Romania at some point in the 90s. And by the look of his Greatest Hits LP, I think I understand why his tardy blend of Euro-dance was never that popular in Britain , despite being pretty massive in many other parts of the globe: the poor man would never get past customs without being arrested for looking like a sex offender. Yet, inexplicably, he decided to put his grinning face on his greatest hits album. Mistake.